Halloween - Nightmare
by kinkymastermind
Summary: Oneshot - Steve bruised and battered after an unexpected encounter. Slowly bleeding while waiting for rescue, for Danny.


The air smelled of cordite. Heaven had opened its gates, and the rain that poured from the skies felt like needles on his skin. Steve lay propped against the bumper of a flipped car. Blood was oozing from a gunshot wound in his side. If he had to make an inventory of his injuries, he'd say his body was comparable to a war zone. But hey, he'd survived. He'd made it, while the bodies of his opponents were scattered all over the place like confetti.

Steve would have loved to push his fist into the air in a victory pose, for Danny to fist-bump it. Yeah, well … Danny.…

He was sitting in the office for sure, waiting for Steve to return. But Steve would not return … ever. He was doomed to sit this one out until the last breath ghosted over his lips. His lips … they tasted salty and metallic as if he were sucking a screw. Talking about screws, Steve was definitely screwed. He had no idea where these fucking thoughts came from, but he was sure as hell that he was sentenced to die on this lonely road in the middle of nowhere.

Why had he even tried to escape? He could've died more or less in peace in this fucking shack. But that was not him. That was not what he had been trained for. It was in his blood and had become a part of him over the years.

God, Steve was so tired. He could barely hold his eyes open. The darkness that was calling him was so sweet and tender. It seduced him, lured him in. It was like a siren's song in the middle of a stormy sea. Why couldn't he just drift into Morpheus' arms? They welcomed him already. Soon, he would be there. Steve willed his stiff fingers to press against the gunshot wound. The searing pain that shot through his body like a pinball and ricocheted from every corner of the same did the trick.

He tore his eyes wide open as a blood-curdling scream escaped his throat. Way too soon, the scream succumbed to a whimper. In his fogged mind, the deafening thunderclaps were merging in one long cacophony of angry sounds. Steve could physically feel his life seeping from the numerous wounds. Rain and blood mixed, pooling around him in a symphony of pink. He would be dead within the next hour, give or take a few minutes. What would this place look like when they found him? Would the rain have stopped? Would Max examine his body? Would the HPD find out what happened? Would they be able to identify the bodies? But most importantly, would Danny be angry with him and yelling at his lifeless body? Would he curse himself for listening to his overconfident partner who had told him that this was just a routine check?

Steve hadn't had the faintest idea that he would be involved in an ongoing arms deal orchestrated by the Yakuza. The text message he'd received only minutes before had been a setup. Steve hadn't mentioned anything to Danny because he thought it had been a Halloween prank from Kamekona and his cousin Flippa. Steve had pranked them several times in the past.

Instead of finding these two familiar faces when he waltzed into the shack, he found himself facing two machine guns. The best he could do was take his feet into his hands and run. Steve's reflexes were still excellent, but he would not stand a snowball's chance in hell if he didn't find a way out of this place.

Steve had not seen the guy who was hiding behind a huge tree and who knocked him out cold.

The brunette came to in a very uncomfortable position. His hands were tied above his head. His toes barely reached the floor. The man with the ugly scar that went across his right eye all down to his throat and the rotten teeth sneered when he landed blow after blow on Steve's abdomen. When the blows did not work, he went with the diving knife. The guy could have been an offspring of Michelangelo. He was totally absorbed in his gruesome occupation, carving into Steve's flesh.

"This is all you got?" Steve mocked him. His torturer had been a bit sidetracked, and Steve had managed to loosen the rope that held his hands in place above his head.

With all the strength he could muster in his current condition, he put up a fight and escaped.

The bullet hit his side before he could slide behind the wheel of his Silverado. The pain knocked the air out of his lungs, but there was no time for being a sissy and mull over the effect that the bullet would have on his intestines.

The rain subsided into a drizzle. The darkness that surrounded Steve out here on this lonely road was closing in. It threatened to overwhelm and choke the last breath out of him. No, no, he was not ready to die; he was not ready to give up. There was still hope, though it was nothing more than a flickering candlelight on a windy porch.

Sirens were wailing in the far. Steve shook his head slowly. This was just his mind that played a trick on him. He dropped his gaze. Only now, he realized that he was still holding on to his gun. It was the last thing he saw before his head slumped back and darkness welcomed him.

Danny and Lou were the first arriving at the scene. The blond detective jumped out of the car, drew his gun, and started searching the area. He ignored Lou's warnings about an ambush.

Someone had put up a hell of a fight. Two cars were peppered with bullets, and so were the bodies of the Yakuza. Carefully, Danny nudged one after another with his foot. Nothing. Dead as one can be.

He searched the scene with the accuracy of a skilled detective. He could not risk putting him and Lou into danger. HPD would be here anytime soon. For now, they were on their own.

Danny's shoulders slumped forward, and his heart sank even further into the pit of his stomach.

"Lou, I got him! We need an ambulance, ASAP!" he hollered out while he rushed to Steve's side.

His partner was sweating bullets, and his skin was pale as wax. Danny feared the worst, but when he gently touched Steve's face he heard a low moan.

"Thank God, you are alive," Danny mumbled, already tearing his shirt into pieces to press it hard against the wound in Steve's side. The brunette was in agony and desperately tried to shove away Danny's hand because he thought it was not real.

Danny shushed him, "Steve, it is me, Danny. You're safe. It is over. I got you. You hear me? I got you?"

Steve fluttered his eyes open and licked his lips. He peeked through his long lashes to be sure that he was not dead and in heaven but still alive and Danny had come to his rescue for real.

Steve lifted his hand which cost him enormous strength. Danny supported him and brought the hand to his cheek. "I knew you wouldn't let me down," Steve whispered. The words came slow and were slurred. "I'm sorry Danno, I should not…"

Danny cupped his cheek with Steve's hand, "Try not to speak. Everything is fine. We'll get you out of here in no time."

"So you…you are not…not mad at…at me?" Steve stammered.

Danny shook his head; tears were streaming down his face when he kissed Steve's palm.

 **The End**


End file.
